


Fearless

by Kailany_Aurora



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Denial, Fights, Friendship, M/M, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-07-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 01:52:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/425604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kailany_Aurora/pseuds/Kailany_Aurora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You spend so much time with a person, a month, a year, a decade and somehow your body learns to memorize them. The crinkle at their eyes. The callouses in their hand. So much so that one day you realize you life is not your own anymore but theirs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It was always us two

They're five when they first lock eyes. 

Its two weeks into kindergarten and Danny's waiting patiently for the teacher to announce play time. He swings his legs which just almost reach the floor, he grew two inches in the past week thank you very much. The door opens and in trots Mr. Reid, the elementary school teacher. He likes Mr. Reid all the kids do; he's got a deep and steady laugh like the drums that his big brother Sergio is always playing. Danny fancies that he probably likes him more than his doctor and his doctor gives him candy. But for some reason the boy standing behind Mr. Reid doesn't seem to like him no-where near as much as Danny does. Danny stands up a little straighter in his chair trying to get a better glimpse. The boy has a scowl on his face and Danny notices that he rolls his eyes at everything that Miss Jenny tells him. Danny's so caught up in staring at the new boy that he doesn't notice Miss Jenny calling his name until she's already said it a third time. He blinks over at her and grabs the back of his neck sheepishly. She smiles a perfect line of pearls at him and motions him toward her.

"Danny you're finished with your art project right?"

Danny blinks again before answering. He's not sure why she's asking she knows that he's always the first one to finish during art time. Sure Lydia might always beat him in Math and Science but she's never ever beat him in Art time; the pretty strawberry-blonde with the linen and lace dress still colored outside of the lines!

"Yes Miss. Jenny." 

She lowers herself to his height and holds her hand out towards the dirty-blonde boy who is still standing behind Mr. Reid his face set in the same scowl as earlier, clutching the straps of his book bag for dear life. He stays put until Mr. Reid gives him a soft firm push towards the pair. His scowl if possible deepens.

"Danny this is Jackson, he's new. I would really appreciate it if you would be Jackson's friend and help him out today. Think you can do that for me Champ?" 

She has that same patient smile that reminds Danny of his Nana and he finds himself nodding if only to keep the smile on Miss. Jenny's face. She turns around looking at the shorter boy.

"Jackson this is Danny he's going to help you out today, alright?"

Danny quickly remembers all the manners his Mommy taught him when they had Aunt Claire visiting; mommy said she was tedious, whatever that means. But if her frown at those words were any indication it meant that she wasn't a nice lady and this boy seemed even less nice than Aunt Claire. Idly he wonders if he'll pinch his cheeks like her, he really hates that. He holds out his hand and gives the other boy a winning smile which would have been a tad bit cuter if Danny's left front tooth hadn't fallen out when he tried climbing that tree.

"Hi I'm Danny."

He says still holding out his hand for the other boy to shake. Jackson does an impressive eye brow rise that he's mastered over the years of watching his favorite wrestler do it. He doesn't care who this stupid kid in this stupid school in this stupid town is. He just wants to go back to his Mom and Dad.

"You have the coolest eyes ever, they're my favorite color, aquamarine." He says still smiling.

Jackson blinks. This boy is the first to ever decribe his eyes right. Some people say it's blue and his mom is always gushing over what beautiful green eyes he has. But Jackson knows himself, knows himself better than any-one even his new mom and dad. He's spent hours in front of the mirror and his eyes aren't sky blue nor are they forest green. They're both just like what this Danny said.

If he were older he'd know that this was one of the moments where life as you know it ends. One of those moments in where the very particles in the air come alive. But he's only five and all those grown up emotions are obscure and maybe this moment shouldn't be described by an elder's solemnity. Because it's pure and sweet and no-one is really able to say that it won't last forever. Jackson finds himself placing a soft baby-skinned hand into the slightly larger tanner one. And in a way he never really lets go.

They're eight when Jacksons has his first fit over his biological parents.

Jacksons the only boy in his family and is used to getting everything his way. New toy trucks, the new Super Mario games, heck, Jackson even got the newest Gameboy two months before it even came out. That particular gift he only wanted so he could give it to Danny. So it's no surprise to Danny when Jackson gets upset over his dad not buying him the puppy. It's a cute puppy at that, a perfect golden Labrador that likes to lick a lot more than it likes to bite. Jackson tries everything to get it. Showing his mom pictures and asking his Dad every day to pass by the Pet shop. It's been weeks of Jackson subtle approaches when he finally outright asks. It's Friday and its Danny's turn to sleep over. Danny loves sleeping over because they get to go to sleep at 10 in Jackson's house and he gets to see wrestling something his mom says he's too young for. As if, he's eight he hasn't been a baby for years.

"Dad may I please have a puppy?" Jackson smiles widely and he's proud that he remember the right way to ask.

"No Jackson your mom is allergic to dogs." 

His dad says evenly only glancing up from cutting the steak to meet his son's eyes assuring that the boy understands the firmness in his answer.

"So mom can take shots!" Jackson's voice hitches up.

"Sweetie, a puppy is just not something that we can have at the moment." His mom says softly.

"I used to have a puppy before." He murmurs. 

Danny tilts his head in confusion he can't ever remember Jackson having a puppy. He watches as Jacksons moms breathing stills and his dad begins frowning. It seems like the silence only encourages the boy.

"Yeah I used to have puppy! My mom and dad loved me enough to give me a puppy! You're not even my real mom and dad so why should I care if you have to take shots!" 

Jackson is screaming now and has his finger pointed at his moms face, accusingly. His face is screwed up in despair and Danny's just staring not able to make heads or tails of the situation. A small whimper passes through Jackson's mouth as he angrily swipes a hand over his red eyes.

"Jackson please -" His mom begins only to be cut off by feral scream.

"SHUT UP SHUT UP! I HATE YOU! I'M NEVER GOING TO LOVE YOU AS MUCH AS THEM! I HATE BOTH OF YOU!"

He stands up with such force that the cherry wood chair that he had been sitting on seconds before falls flat on its back. He runs up the stairs and everything is silent for a moment in the dining room as if time has stopped. The chair finally clatters after what feels like forever and it's as if that breaks the dam. Mrs. Whittemore is sobbing into her hands and her husband has jumped out of his chair too comfort his wife. Danny slowly walks out of the room and up the stairs. He places a hand on the golden knob of Jackson's room for a moment before deciding to enter. He thinks this is the only time he's taken the caution sign on the door seriously. There are toys thrown all over the place and Jackson's favorite Batman poster has been ripped from the wall. One of the drawers lays at the foot of the closet its contents spilled everywhere. And in the middle of the hurricane is Jackson. He's standing there screaming, scratching at his arms, and pulling at his hair. Danny watches for a moment. He's so scared. But he knows he needs to help Jackson, he doesn't understand what's going on but he knows he loves Jackson and that you help people you love. He walks over to Jackson and grabs his hand. The boy continues screaming, his chest constricting. Danny wraps his arms around him holding his arms down. Jacksons tugging and pushing at him but he just holds on tighter. He's not sure when it happens but at some point the screams stop and Jackson is hugging him back crying as much as his small body can.

If he were older he'd know that this was the sealing of their bonds. One of those moments where two people become so tightly intertwined that if they were to be taken from each other you'd never really have the whole person. But he's only eight and he doesn't know what's going on, only that Jackson his best friend whose got freckles all over his nose is crying. And it hurts him just as much as it's hurting him.

They're thirteen when Danny first tells Jackson he's gay. 

It's Friday and it's Jackson's week to sleep over Danny's. They've changed a lot over the past eight years. Jackson now is finally a hair of an inch taller than Danny though Danny can still take him down easily in a wrestling match. They've traded super Nintendo games for weights. People to this day still question how cocky Jackson Wittemore can be best friends with sweet Danny Llorente. And to this day Danny likes drawing small details in the leather bound sketch book Jackson buys him every year, he smiles at strangers, and likes the feel of other hands in his own, he's still simple but complicated Danny and Jackson hopes that never changes. And some things never change Jackson muses to the biting winter as it prickles over his face. He stands silently in the backyard, watching, an attribute that he's gathered from Danny. He watches Danny carefully, watches as he sits on the swing his feet kicking up small clouds of dirt wringing his sleeveless wrists. He loves winter always walks around in a long sleeve shirt while Jackson bundles up with three sweaters, scarves and gloves. Dusk is falling and Jackson notices how beautiful- no not beautiful because that's what girls like Lydia are; how fitting the lights that are falling around Danny seem. They're falling down from where they warm the sky and stars to flow over to him, ghosting over him softening his bones and Jackson has to shake his head to stop the feeling of weightlessness that filters through his body.

He finally walks over to him the crunching of leaves causing Danny to raise his head from his lap. He meets Jackson eyes and gives a tight lipped smile in acknowledgment. Jackson sits on the swing next to him; the air is brimming with shadows. His hand seeks out Danny, instinctively, though whether it's to comfort Danny whose eyes still haven't looked at his or to console his own inner turmoil he doesn't know. Danny almost retracts his hand but it's quickly caught in the vice grip of Jacksons. He fingers the insides of Danny's wrist, tracing each of his veins; I'm not going anywhere, I'm sorry, I love you. Danny's breath catches in his throat.

"Jackson." 

Jackson moves his fingers tracing each line on Danny's palm, he's sure that its muscle memory that allows him to remember where every single cut and dip on Danny's hand is. He thinks he hears Danny call his name again but he's too busy memorizing the new callouses that have formed from the weights they've been doing to register in. Either way he rather hear the chirping of the crickets because in the back of his mind he's worried that Danny's going to turn away from him and he's not sure if he'll be able to heal from that, ever. Danny rips his hand out of Jackson and stands.

"For gods fucking sake Jackson!" 

He's red in the face and he's holding his body in an open stand, fists clenched at his side. Jackson watches him carefully. Danny doesn't curse; he's a good little mama's boy: the type that gives a girl a pretty flower or compliments someone just because. He stands up, taking one step, two steps, away from Danny. He folds his arms at his chest and he hopes it looks like a gesture of annoyance rather then him trying to comfort himself.

"You have to leave, we can't be friends anymore."

Jackson doesn't really comprehend the words. He's just standing there, the wind picking up the ends of his black scarf, and he's pretty sure that his mouth is gaping right now. He vividly remembers the feeling of utter terror that accompanies a dream that one is falling; where you wake up with your heart vibrating in your throat and ears, your grip on reality and dreams merging with one another as you mentally tell yourself to calm down, calm down it was just a dream. Danny turns around, turns away from him and it's as if his body is sent into hyper speed drive. 

He's screaming at Danny now, pushing him. And Danny's screaming back and he really wishes he could comprehend what Danny's saying but all his senses are drilling at him so sharply that it's giving him a headache. He's not sure who started it but they're wrestling on the ground. And his mom's probably going to bitch at him for getting his new cashmere sweater dirty but he could care less right now. Danny's stronger, always has been but for some reason Jackson is able to flip him over and sit on top of him, glaring. Danny's still screaming, spitting fire and bucking furiously to launch Jackson off him. Jackson's holding his arms, his thighs clenching around the body beneath him.

"SHUT UP SHUT UP!" Jacksons screaming back now. 

Because Danny's being so stupid right now, Danny's the calm one the one who likes learning origami from a how to do it book and walking barefoot on wet grass. He's not supposed to be angry, that's his. They're supposed to balance each out and how can they do that if Danny's acting so out of character. His breathing has become so shallow and furious that he doesn't notice that Danny's now quiet. The only sound leaving his body is small whimpers and though he's looking heaven bound Jackson knows he's not looking at anything in particular. Jackson finally notices the wet trail that's cascading down Danny's face, a tear resting at the corner of his lips. Jackson sits back pulling Danny along with him.

"Stop crying man, come on what did I do?" He quietly asks his voice muffled by Danny's hair. Danny's pushing him softly. He lets his grip loosen a bit, enough for Danny to lean back and finally look at him. Jackson oddly wonders why he feels like he hasn't seen those eyes in years.

"You didn't do anything, it's me." Danny rubs the back a habit he's never been able to drop as he says this.

"Danny there's nothing that can stop me being you friend even if you told me you liked Lydia, you're my brother." Danny cringes and Jackson can't believe that Danny was being so stupid over a girl.

"That's the problem."

"You like Lydia?" Jackson shrugs. "I don't care man she's just a chick they'll be hotter ones in high school." He waggles his eyebrows trying to lighten the mood. Danny stares back, blankly.

"No I don't like Lydia." Its Jacksons turn to look confused.

"Then what's going on man?" Danny bites his lip and turns his face away. "Look at me," He grabs Danny's face softly turning it. "Man, you can tell me whatever it is. It's not going to change anything."

A heart beat passes between them.

"I'm gay." Danny closes his eyes. Jackson blinks.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Danny opens his eyes chancing a glance at his best friend.

"Yeah, okay. You're gay at least you don't have cancer." Jacksons never really given homosexuals much thought, they're just there in his world. But his logic is simple. He loves Danny, his best friend. He's pretty sure he'll never find another person he can get along with that well. So if Danny's gay then he can only choose to accept him and fight anyone who gives Danny a hard time for it.

He finds himself engulfed in a tight hug. Danny's looking at him smiling a sunshine smile and Jackson hopes he looks different in Danny's eyes from everyone else.

That night finds Danny typing away at his computer. The computer light is shining at his face and he rubs his eyes every now and again in an attempt to keep sleep at bay. He knows he can do this; he can at least do it for Jackson. A few minutes pass before he gives a small yell of triumph, he's in. He's flicking through every single file.

"Whittemore. Whittemore." He's biting the inside of his cheeks. He stares for a moment at the link that reads Jackson Whittemore. Just before he reads it the site expels him and he knows he's been caught.

"Fuck."

It's only an hour later when there's a knock at his house door. He pretends to be sleeping soundly in his bed before his mom walks in. She's mad, switching from Spanish to English.

"Daniel Llorente!" He look over at his mom. "Llevantate. Now."

It's a short ride to the Sheriff office but it feels like hours. Sheriff Stilinski is a nice man. He's got warm eyes like Stiles and though he's obviously no-where near as talkative or exuberant Danny's sure that there's a lot of him in his son. He hasn't talked to Danny yet only asked his mom if she wanted some coffee. There's a knock at the door before in strides Meredith Whittemore, she's beautiful with long waves of soft blonde hair and if Danny didn't know better he would have never guessed that Jackson was adopted. She looks over at Danny and he can't help feel even more ashamed because she's basically his second mom. She's sitting stiff and proud and Danny sees a lot of Jackson's haughtiness in her.

"Danny," he moves his eyes meeting those of the Sheriff. "Do you know the reprecautions of what you did tonight?"

And Danny's so ashamed and worried that he just begins rambling. He says how he's sorry and he didn't mean to hurt Mrs. Whittemore because she's an amazing mom and he loves her. And how he only did it because today he told Jackson he was gay and he accepted him and he was just so happy that he wanted to do something for him. He's talking so rapidly that his breath starts coming off in tight strained breaths until he can't speak anymore. His mom sits next to him rubbing smoothing circles, telling him to just breathe. A few minutes pass until he's calmed down enough to speak again.

"I'm really sorry." Mrs. Whittemore smiles over at his mom. 

If he were older he'd know what that look meant. He'd know that they we're accepting one another more than they did before, that they we're quietly amused at how much their sons loved each other and would continue to do so. But he's only thirteen and he hasn't even had his first kiss so love is still a magical journey that he hasn't taken nor is he sure he wants too.

They're sixteen when things first start changing.

Jackson is still overly protective over Danny and is known to slam the random one or two bodies throughout the year against a locker for murmuring the word faggot. Danny is still the only one able to really understand the different facets of Jackson personality and is known for quickly shushing anyone who mocks how Jacksons just another beef head jock. Jackson sill watches wrestling and makes the best fettuccini alfredo in town. Danny still loves drawing and rubs his neck when nervous. It seems like nothing's changed but if Danny looks back on the past years he realizes that everything has. Life's funny like that he muses.

Jackson's waiting for him in front of his locker. His foot propped up against it as he stand coolly winking at any girl who catches his eyes.

"You're a piranha."

Jackson smiles at him, eyebrow shooting up.

"Me?" Danny laughs before rolling his eyes. "So want come over tonight?" Jackson continues.

"Can't. I'm going over to Stiles."

"You've been spending a lot of time with Stilinski, you sweet on him or something?" Jackson asks but it comes off as more of a growl. 

Danny turns around, frowning.

"And you spend a lot of time obsessing over Scott lately, you sweet on him?" Danny bites back.

"It's different I'm not . . ." He cuts off his sentence words hanging in the air.

"Not what? Gay?" Danny rolls his eyes but this time in annoyance rather than fondness.

"Look Danny I just don't think you should be spending so much time with Stilinksi, he's a first class loser."

"You're such a hypocrite did you know that?" Danny throws his hands in the air. "You would kill anyone for so much as uttering a derogatory word such as fag even if it's not directed at me but yet you insist on picking on people like Stiles. I get it. You're pissed because you're co-captain now. But instead of sitting on your ass always whining about Scott this and Scott that start seeing that the problem might be you. You're pointing fingers every which way but at yourself. I didn't know you to ever be so weak Jacks." He stands there grabbing the strap oh his book bag waiting for his words to sync in.

"What the fuck Danny? I'm you're best fucking friend!" He accuses.

"When was the last time I saw you Jackson and you asked me how I was or anything? You're always obsessing over Scott. The last time you even registered my presence was when I got checked in practice and I'm sure you only noticed because it was Scott that did it." 

He's lashing out now, weeks of pent up frustration bursting at the seams. He's never been used to being pushed to the side by Jackson not even with Lydia because he knows his best friend doesn't love the girl but is only doing what's expected of him.

"Danny, man I've been taking care of you for years. You know you're important to me. But there are other things that you have to take second too. You just wouldn't understand." 

He's choosing his words carefully. Knowing that though Danny is not known for anger when he is it can be lethal.

"I would understand if you would just fucking tell me what's going!" Jackson opens his mouth to respond but he finds himself unable to make his thoughts turn into words. Danny watches waiting for an answer.

"Exactly what I thought." He drags a breath and it sounds a lot like remorse and broken apologies. "If you can't even trust me then how are we even friends?" Jackson bites his bottom lip, aggravation, anger, love, sadness, all roll off him back and forth clanging off one another until he doesn't know what he feels.

That night he goes to Derek knowing that he has to be changed. Knowing that he needs to become better so Danny won't get bored of him, knowing that he needs to get stronger so he can protect Danny, knowing that if only he gets the bite all his problems will be fixed. He'll stop obsessing over McCall and everything will be fine. Danny and he will be back to being best friends and nothing will change that. Ever.

If he were older he'd know that this was one of those moments where friendship turns into love. He'd know that this desperation comes from the horror of losing the one you love the most. But he's only sixteen and still so good at playing pretend. Easier to say that the tears streaming down his face is because he thinks he's inadequate and frustrated with not being good enough. Because once he stops pretending and realizes that he's all grown up, that the bonds are sealed, and he's already been casted away, life is going to get a little more complicated.


	2. Caught Beneath a Landslide

He didn't need to be a werwolf to notice, the agony that clung to the boy's bones, weighting him down and sinking him into this Earth until he became the very soil. It was a desperation that he had seen only once before in Laura. It was the way she looked as she had ran towards the burning building of their home, screeching at the world at the universe as Derek tackled her to the floor not allowing her to run into the flames. He remembered how her voice sounded as it broke all the shackles of her humanity, the very sky weaping for her.

Derek wondered if the sky cried for the human boy that stood infront of him. If the scent of thunderstorms that invaded his nose was any indicant it did. He smiled ruefully at the boy so he wanted to be change, he wanted the bite, well Derek was only happy to obilge if only to strengthen his pack.

Jackson didn't know that such searing pain could exist, if any person could ever feel the sensation of their insides burning them and a soundless scream that was wrenched from the deepest pains of one's heart from the dark subconscious of a mind plagued with regrets then they would feel, and they would know. The pain left Jackson on the floor of the ashen house, his body spasming long after he had collapsed and fell into an infinite darkness. Derek looked at the body and growled at the slight twinge in his heart, it seemed that Jackson would survive the bite, his wolf already recognizing his family, his pack. It was that and that reason alone that made Derek pick up the boy and carry him home. He didn't care but his wolf obviously wanted his pack to be well taken care of. He placed the boy gently on the bed, gazing around at the room that belonged to Jackson Whittemore. 

Pale blue walls, lined with trophies and certificates nothing that could bring any true understanding of who the boy was. The only personalized item in the pristine room was a photo holding Jackson and another boy. Derek vaguely recognized him as Danny the one who had tracked down the phone number and had inadverantly pointed them in the direction of the Alpha. There was a photo of him and Jackson perhaps at the age of fourteen. Danny was caught mid way through a laugh, his eyes crinkeled and head leaned against Jackson in wreckless youth. Jackson held the boy tightly by his side, his arms wrapping around the others waist pulling the boy towards him, he had a soft smile, one that spoke of patience and long Beacon hill nights of wisdom, hope and the sunrise. But the most important thing, if the smile alone had not given it away was that Jakcson's gaze of piercing sea was not directed towards the camera but at the boy he tightly tucked to his side. He looked at him as if the boy was ruler of life, like he embodied the meaning of life itself and everytime he breathed Jackson would gain power gain strength, this boy was Jackson's life.

Danny had some abandonment issues that he had accepted that unlike Jackson he was just naturally born with.

He had great family, and his life was relatively stable, his childhood being one of paint in his hair and spices in the air so he had absolutely no reason to fear change as much as he did. So to not look insane he had let this fear become his one secret, a secret that he kept guarded under lock and key which didn't allow any-one to know the complete extent that his hatred for change would run. No-one knew about all the childhood keepsakes he would keep, like Snuggles his pet panda that had been by his side since he was born. It had had lost half of it's fluff making Danny wonder how it still wasn't flat. But he couldn't bare to part with Snuggles or many other things because then he'd be losing a part of himself and if that happened then who would he become? Nor could he part with his favorite True Religion jeans that had more holes in him than he thought normal. He couldn't throw away the memories that were in those jeans, his art, his first kiss, nights of running through the woods on scavengers hunts, he just couldn't pretend they didn't happen, that they didn't make him feel infinite and light and as though he was melting. 

Whenever he'd go to the art store ten minuets away from his house and found a color that he particularly liked he would buy the whole stock in fear that when he came back in a month or two the color would no longer be there, he knew he could order it but it didn't change his need to have it now, you know, just in case. No-one could really fathom how he could go weeks eating the same meals, doing the same things, and listening to the same songs. The same went for people, Danny was a popular boy, everyone loved him but his group of close friends had been constant since grade school, he never let any-one in not into his life and much less into his heart. The boyfriends he had were brief and never stayed more than a few weeks in his bed. It was simple even if he didn't admit it to himself. He feared being left, of having his carefully structured life cracked down the middle and collapsing. It was yes or no, right or wrong, there were no gray areas with a man like Danny.

But in a matter of seconds Jackson destroyed the fundamental blocks of Danny's life, destroyed his constant path. He made everything askew and ache so bad with his lies. After the fight Danny had ran to his car disregarding the fact that his next class was in two minuets and drove to his home, to something that would forever be the same, be safe. But it didn't help even then, there were remains of Jackson everywhere, at his desk side table with a photo of 7 year old Danny and Jackson holding up Student of the month paper's proudly, on his bed with the smell of jasmine and fresh cut grass clouding his nose.

Everything that Danny held dearly to his hear, everything he had built his life around wreaked of Jackson. He sobbed openly into his arms knowing that there was no line he could tell himself that would make this all just seem like a bad dream, knowing that this was real. Jackson had taken every memory, every notion of serenity and balance in Danny's life and walked away. He made Danny need to buy different paint, to listen to new songs, and to just throw away every single thing that held a sentiment of his past life. He needed new, needed a life without Jackson because he knew now, knew it in the bitterest part of his mind and in the sorrow that clung to his veins that he would never be the same.


	3. If I’m louder would you see me, would you lay down in my arms and rescue me?

He somehow manages to convince his mother to not let him go to school for the rest of the week. 

He’s such a mamma’s boy that it kills him to see the smaller women stand at the edge of his door, biting her lip as she tries to get him to talk. He shoos her away with small smiles and I’m fine mami, no te procupes. She makes all his favorite meals for the next week, Ahi Poke that he hasn’t had since they went to Hawaii last summer to visit his dad’s family and Nana spent the whole time teaching him the recipes because he was finally old enough to be in her domain to the softest coconut flan he’s ever had. 

It does wonders for his stomach but nothing for his guilt. 

His father claps him on the shoulder and persuades him to leave his bedroom with the promise of a few games of Lacrosse out in the back, which are the only moments that his skin has seen sunlight in the last few days. 

Sergio comes in regularly and lies down on the bed next to Danny, his hand drumming to the beat of some classic rock song or the other. He sometimes brings Danny new paints, thought you’d like this color it’s cool, this one reminds me of the sea. 

He hates that his family is so worried about him; he hasn’t seen them in a state like this since the week that he decided to come out and didn’t talk to anyone for days just sulking around the house. 

It should come as no surprise to him when they bring in reinforcements. Luckily they’re not in the shape of a 5-foot ten human who was probably a Greek God in another life. It comes in a 5-foot package and thankfully through a telephone because his Nana is one scary woman. 

His mom hands him the phone on Sunday. He looks up from his book, Cat’s Cradle to give her a small frown as he takes it from her hands. He mouths who is it but she merely turns around and walks out the door.

“Hello?” His tone is questioning and ready to hang up if it’s Jackson. 

“Keiki, what is this I hear about you being miserable in your room and becoming one of the children of the mahina?”  
A voice like honey spills out and Danny can see his Nana in his minds eye, probably sitting on the porch watching the waves hit the shore as she makes butter mochi, his grandpa’s favorite type.

“Hi nana.” He says.

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

She’s matter of fact and Danny knows better then to not answer. His Nana is perfectly capable of buying a last minuet plane ticket and coming straight here guns blazing if she’s not satisfied. 

“I’m just going through a rough time Nana. Jackson and I had a fight, I -,” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “I think our friendship is done for good this time.” 

He doesn’t realize how much it still hurts, until it’s out in the open. He had numbed his pain after his initial break down and pretended that it wasn’t a big deal; he didn’t need Jackson fucking Whittemore. He hears a hum of thought as reply. 

“Is that all?” He takes the phone away from his ear and looks at it as though it’s offended his very state of being. His life breaking apart at the seams is not a petty thing. He glares.

“Daniel stop that this instant.” He immediately schools his features.

“The way I see it you have two things you can do, you either move past this or you’re miserable for the rest of your life. Granted the second choice is much easier but I don’t believe it to be wise. No one is going to give you happiness frankly most people don’t even know what it is to be happy; it is something you have to fight for each and every day something you have to find in the simplest of things. People are to caught up in the what ifs, the down right horrible things that they forget how much they laughed, they forget the intensity in which the sun sets over the sky and the picture it paints. Like I said you have two options.”

Danny knew she was right, right in the way of someone who had experience life for all it held. She was a dreamer and Danny always liked dreamers best. 

“I know Nana.” 

“I love you Keiki.”

“Love you too.”

He clicked end on the phone, looked over at the book that he had been reading, quickly bookmarked it and got up from bed.

He changed into a simple white shirt and a pair of paint stained sweat pants, grabbed the bags that Sergio had left on the corner of his desk and climbed down the stairs.

“Danny?”

He smiled over at his mom and held up the bag in his hand as answer. She smiled in return gave a simple nod, pushed her glasses up her nose and immersed herself in her work.

It was a simple fact about Danny that he loved beautiful things.

The way a dancer twirled to the soft swaying of the beat and just as rapidly leaped and dived as it came to a climax, the slow almost romantic rise of smoke from a person who gently caressed a cigarette in between elegant fingers, the curves of a persons face as they smiled eyes lighting up and showing their secrets. He was by no means shallow. Always the kindest of boy’s who never judged someone or something based on their aesthetics but he couldn’t help but want to capture the beauty or tragedies he saw in life, put them down on his canvas and keep them for himself. It was his outlet seeing such wonders that others most usually neglect, it was so moving that if he didn’t paint it, if he didn’t draw the slow up lift of a smile and the drops of rain as they trailed from the tree disappearing then he would crack under the weight of such passion. 

So he drew. He drew Jackson for all he was worth, dozens of times before nightfall. He drew the elegant edges of his features, smooth almost sculpted. He drew the careful feather soft eyelashes that were so long they touched his cheeks when he slept. He drew him running, legs firm and lean as he dodged through the opposition, a gladiator against the lions. 

And it helped. 

He doesn't feel so weighted so jaded as he did only a few hours before. He’s looking at his work and looks pleased, a cat that got the cream smile on his face. But as his eyes glance at the last canvas he feels slightly distraught. 

It’s an early morning drawing, the small shades of light that flitter in through the cracks of the curtain hit Jackson’s face in all the right angles. He’s laying down on his back, one arm tucked as a pillow under his head while the other is spread out, his right leg slightly bent up, and he looks vulnerable an expression on his face that no-one would believe. It’s not Danny’s best work, not even close, it doesn’t have enough shading and the colors aren’t perfect but something springs up on him and maybe he’s always known. Maybe his Nana even knew. He drew this last image of Jackson with the constellations of freckles that he made wishes upon, with nothing but raw love. 

 

***

 

It’s Tuesday and Danny’s not back yet. Jackson’s been on edge all week and it seems like this week won’t be going any better. 

“You seriously need to relax.” Stile comments through a mouth of hash browns.

Jackson looks at him half in disgust at the puffed up cheeks and half in fascination of how any one could eat that much food at once. 

“Glaring at the doors not going to make him show up.” He continues. 

“I know, it’s just I fucked up.” 

“Yeah you did.” Stiles says as he tosses another hash brown into mouth.

"Is he always this . . . “ He trails off staring at the other Beta.

“Blunt? Yeah he kind of never grew a filter.” 

“I believe the word you are seeking is charming and adorable.” 

Jackson scoffs and starts walking up the steps towards the school flanked by the duo of knuckleheads’.  
They weren’t that bad if he had to admit, spending the week with them Isaac and Lydia at Derek’s had made him appreciate them in a new way. He had even found some redeeming qualities in Scott who he had sworn to hate till either he or the other died. If someone were to ask though he would say he only liked him because he was pack and pack’s important. Stiles on the other hand when he wasn’t bursting with energy and going of on useless tangents was actually ridiculously intelligent and yeah okay kind of charming. 

He’s watching as Scott laughs at Stiles going off on how Derek needs to be taught the English language because grunts are just simply not comprehendible when his eyes catch the messenger book bag of one Danny Mahealani. 

“Danny.”

It wasn’t that loud but it seems that the tanner boy is hyper aware of his environment because he automatically cringes and shuts his locker in a haste. He’s gripping the strap of the messenger tightly and is about to make a run for it when Jackson steps right in front of him. 

“Danny.” He says again using the same air that Danny’s breathing for the hopeless word. 

“Can you please move, I don’t want to be late for class.” He comments voice filled with gruffness from under use.

“That’s rich, you haven’t been here for a week. I was worried.” Danny’s eyes widen but his head is down, looking anywhere but at the light haired youth so the expression goes bypassed by the other. 

“It seems you held up just fine in my absence, guess you really are sweet for Scott.” He looks up glaring. 

“Have fun with your new friends Jackson and leave me alone.” He grits out through clenched teeth 

Jackson grips him tightly by the elbow.

“You’re my best friend stop it.”

“Well maybe I want a new one.”

Jackson momentarily panics but he realizes that something’s wrong. The steady lub dub lub dub thump lub dub that had been coursing through his ears had hitched and stuttered out. Danny was lying to him. 

“You’re lying.” He says it simply because really nothing is more simple then this.

Danny doesn’t want to walk away from him; he doesn’t want to abandon him. Danny wasn’t breaking all the promises he had made to him under the shelter of pillow forts, The Power Rangers being their only testimony. 

He gives the other a smile and watches the shock that filters through him. Perhaps at being called out but more likely at the grin.

“You’re deluded, don’t touch me.” Lub dub lub dub thu- dub.

Another lie. 

He continues smiling, the smile that he reserves only for Danny and his mom and okay maybe he gave Derek one this weekend when he congratulated him on his fighting technique. It’s the one that he gave Danny when he was first teaching him lacrosse and was talking about he was going to be so good at it and be first string when he was older. His smile whenever he talked about how awesome Batman was or when he watched someone eat his fettuccini alfredo, the only edible thing he knew how to make. 

He see’s the slight up turn of lips, barely there. 

“You’re always going to be my best friend Daniel Mahealani.” 

He feels Danny’s heart speed up and then he shakes his head. 

“Whatever Whittemore.” And he put’s on Danny bitch face number 26, you’re clearly an idiot and lucky I love you so I’ll forgive you later. 

He watches the boy walk away and grins, they’ll be fine. 

He walks back to the rest of the boys now joined by Allison and Isaac stiles whistling impressively. 

“You got it bad.” Allison nods her head sagely at his comment while Isaac gives a small chuckle and Scott just looks confused.

“What do you mean? He raises one eye brow looking around at the rest of the pack.

“For Danny, you totally got it bad like worse then me with – uh actually never mind I didn’t say that.” Stiles babbles on shaking his hand in front of him. 

“Well Danny’s my best friend of course I’d be worried.” Stiles lets out a guffaw of laughter but stops midway through it when he sees’ Jackson’s unimpressed face.

“Wait you actually believe that?” 

“What the fuck else would he be?” He glares wondering if Stiles knew something that he didn’t. 

“Oh shit.”

He looks over at Allison then motions to Jackson and then towards the direction Danny had taken off expression completely flabbergasted. Allison seems to take pity on him because she grabs his wrist and gently soothes him. 

“I know Stiles.”

He gives an over dramatic sniff and pretends to sob into her shoulder. 

“It’s just so hard being the only intelligent person, do you think becoming a werewolf knocks out some IQ points?” 

Allison let’s out a small giggle and Isaac immediately yells out “Hey I figured it out to!”

Stiles brightens up grabs Allison by one hand and then Isaac by the other.  
“Come young Allison and Isaac to the plotting room!” 

Jackson raises both eyebrows this time and turns to look at Scott for explanation. 

“Dude, I have long ago decided to not even try making sense of what he’s talking about.”

“Well at least life as a werewolf won’t be boring.”

“Yeah you can say that again.” Scott grins and throws an arm around his shoulder. The only reason he doesn’t rip it off is because Scott is pack not because he actually likes the other beta or anything.


	4. Equinox

You’d think it’d be more climatic finding out that he’s in love with his boyhood best friend. But Danny’s life isn’t dramatic police records and jealous exes aside.  So he knows logically at least that’s it’s not like he has this recent revelation stamped across his face for the world to see. But he’s sure that Stiles Stilinski knows something. The boy’s not very good at whispering after all and even if he was his panicked face that resulted with him tripping over the high-top chair in Chemistry when Danny stared at him was definitely the conclusion of Danny’s suspicion. But he won’t say anything; definitely not admit to whatever crackpot idea Stilinski has at least. Danny’s biggest character flaw is that he’s one prideful little shit which can completely be attributed to hanging out with Jackson too much when his psyche was still developing. So yeah, asking Stilinski is out of the question. Speaking to Jackson is even more out of it. Because he doesn’t care if Jackson’s decided now to finally grow a heart and emotions he’s still damn well pissed. A part of him know’s that it’s not Jackson’s fault entirely and that the boy is capable of moments of vulnerability and deep kindness, he remembers Jackson cradling him as he cried over his first “broken heart”.

_“Danny! Danny!”_

_He can hear Jackson screaming his name but as he opens his mouth to call out to him another wave of sobs rock through him and all he can do is try to muffle them with the fabric of his shirt. He’s sitting against the light green tiled wall of the bathroom in Beacon Hills Middle School.  Heaving sobs and he hasn’t cried this much since he realized that he was gay and thought every-one would abandon him like he saw in movies and read on help websites. He fucking hates this. Hates how much of a stereotype he is right now. Yeah the gay kid who can’t even take care of himself and is crying like a sissy.  He hears Jackson’s footsteps coming to the stall where he’s holed himself into trying to open the door. The other boy gives a curse at realizing it’s locked, Danny watches as he get’s down on his knees and slithers through the little space till he’s kneeling right in front of Danny._

_“Oh. Danny.” Jackson mutters and opens up his arms for him._

_Danny crawls over to him throwing himself on the other and sobbing into his shoulder.  He’s murmuring that Danny’s so much better than this. Danny’s sobs begin to stutter out until it’s only small whimpers. The tendons standing out in Jackson’s neck relax as the boy slackens against him. He respects Danny for all he is, his kindness, his strength, his intelligence. At fifteen Jackson is already painfully aware that he’s not worthy of such a person, a direct contrast to the bitter and hateful person he is. But it doesn’t stop him from loving Danny even if he’s never told Danny and he thinks that the other boy, a picture of grace and veiled thoughts deserves whatever small happiness Jackson is able to give him. Unconsciously, Jackson brushes a tuff of hair behind Danny’s ear, his gaze bubbling with fondness and frustration._

_“I’ll always be here you know that right?”_

_Danny only nods miserably in response._

He’s pulled from the memory at the insistent ringing of the bell informing them that the last period of the day has ended.  He walks towards the field for practice and see’s Jackson from across the hall. He’s talking to Isaac Lahey a small smirk on his face as he leans on the locker. Erica comes out of a classroom and slinks her way to Jackson’s side and he immediately wraps an arm around her waist. Danny bites back jealousy and the sense of bile that claws it’s way up. It’s not Erica’s fault. She’s the hottest thing in Beacon Hills High at the moment and of course Jackson Whittemore would stake claim. But Danny for a few seconds can’t help but wish that her stupid leather jacket catching fire or some one would bump into her too prominent breasts and they would deflate on contact. Danny never gives himself a hard time about being gay, but sometimes like these, in moment of horrible unrequited love, which yeah is just as bad as all those books and song say they are that, he wishes it were different. 

He puts his earphones in blasting music so he won’t even have to pretend to ignore Jackson if the boy acknowledges his presence and heads out. He hears nothing but he can feel the stares and he looks over at the trio to send them all glare, his state lingering on Erica which yes he knows isn’t fair but fuck it he’s always sucked at blaming Jackson anyway. His lips thin and he can feel his eyes dilate until they’re basically black and the girls bemused stare girl quickly turns into an alarmed one as she turns away. Danny knows he can be intimidating but he rarely ever has to be. Still every-now and then when he goes to visit Hawaii there’s some main lander who thinks because he’s gay that he doesn’t know how to use fists. Which is bull try having wrestling obsessed child version of Jackson and Sergio I’m a block of Steel Mahealani as daily presences in your life and not come out knowing a thing or too about a brawl. He steps through the locker room and tries to change as quickly as possible to avoid interaction with Jackson. A bunch of the other players come up to him and bump him on the shoulder or grab him in a friendly headlock saying how they missed him.

When he steps onto the field Coach Finstock runs up to him as though Danny is some sort of God.

“You’re back, thank God, was it McCall? Coach Finstock has his arm around him and is leading him up to the field.

Danny’s face morphs into one of confusion.

“Scott hasn’t done anything coach?” He says gaze questioning. Coach clicks his tongue against the roof of his tongue in obvious disbelief.

“I can bench him Danny if he did, that Lahey boy can take his place now if anything.”

“Coach I promise everything’s fine, I had a bug.”

Coach nods muttering something about love bugs and then starts screaming over at Greenberg whose just dropped several pieces of equipment.

Danny idly wonders into what world he walked into before shaking his head.

“Hey.” He looks up and see’s Scott standing in front of him, crooked and dopey smile in place. He nods his head in acknowledgement.

“Glad to have you back man. Jackson’s been complaining about you missing every-day in practice.”

Danny scoffs and he shouldn’t be doing this. He knows how harmful it is to indulge in displacement both for him and for the innocent bystander but he wants some-one to burn along side him. For their heart, stomach, chest to all burn in nothing but hurt as it seeps into a throbbing numbness.  

“Really?” He smirks and it gets even bigger when he notices that Scott so stupidly thinks he’s actually asking in genuine interest when his voice is so obviously dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah man, super. Derek’s been telling him that you’ll come around but he’s still worried.”

Danny just feels the anger boiling up and around him, running through his veins and licking up his insides waiting to burst. He hates being in the dark. He knows something’s been going on for months now but he didn’t care because before now it had in no way affected his life. He realized early on that Miguel was actually Derek Hale a now ex-fugitive, that Kate Argent six years later found to be the murder of the entire Hale clan had not been merely coincidence. But now whatever this mess Scott and Stiles had caught themselves up in it had dragged Jackson in as well. It’s destroyed the building blocks of stability that Danny’s life was fundamentally based on.  So it’s no surprise that he’s shoving and screaming at Scott whose standing there in absolute shock.

“You don’t know shit McCall!” He roars shoving the other.

Scott automatically backs up his stare wide eyed. He can hear every-one shifting around them and a part of him here’s Stiles babbling about how this is not the time and Scott man calm down.

“You’re just a fucking sad pathetic loser whose probably juiced himself up to be good at a sport that he won’t even get to play because of his grades.” Another angry push. “Flanked by a best friend that no-one can stand and a girlfriend whose probably as psycho as her Aunt.” He hears Scott growl at that actually growl and step forward to him. Good he’s itching for a fucking fight, just a couple of good punches, his sense of self-preservation is close to none right now. “I guess I see perfectly where Jackson fit’s in there. He’s already got you fooled into thinking there’s actually something there beside a pretty face. He’s a fucking monster who doesn’t even know how to love someone and you expect me to take your shit seriously.”  A bitter laugh leaves his lips and he goes to shove Scott one more time but the other grabs his wrists this time.

“Danny, man what’s wrong with. . .”

It’s now Danny’s turn to growl and he does just that. He snarls and breaks his wrist away from Scott’s hold. He sends a punch that the other boy narrowly avoids and suddenly there are arms around his waist lifting him up.

He looks back and can barely make out Jackson’s features, the glint of his eyes, the slope of his nose. He begins thrashing in Jackson’s arm screaming out obscenities as he claws at the others arms. Jackson’s still holding him tight and when he looks around every-ones staring in dread. Lydia, Erica, and Allison have come down from where they sit in the stands and are surrounding the boys. Erica is glaring and Allison is rubbing a hand up and down Scott’s back who is doubled over. He uses his head and bangs it against Jackson who drops him at the sheer abruptness of the action.

He quickly scatters away his hands turned into angry fists.

“Don’t fucking touch me!

“Danny, please.” Jacksons stepping forward and Danny cringes flying three steps back like a trapped animal.

“ _Don’t._ ” His voice is quiet now and he can feel the tears pooling in his eyes.

“Don’t ever speak to me again Jackson Whittemore.”

Jackson’s not heeding his words as he walks forward. Danny holds up a hand.

“I hate you. I hate you.” He’s saying it shakily with so much conviction that he honestly believes it.

Jackson seizes up as though some-ones just stabbed him Danny muses because that's exactly what he’s done.  He turns around and runs because he’s supposed to be the serene one, the one that fixed everything and he just wants to shed every single thing that he was supposed to be and re-create himself. He wants to be born again in another skin, another time, and he hopes he never knows Jackson Whittemore again because loving him hurts too much. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I haven't posted a lot of things came up and this fell second to it. But here's the next installment and though it's merely serves as a filler I hope you enjoy it.


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